


Fixpoint

by InsertSthMeaningful



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Erik Is Crushing Harder Than A 12-Year-Old Girl, Erik Lehnsherr is not a Happy Bunny, M/M, Meet-Cute (sort of), Mentions of Blood and Past Abuse, Mentions of Vampirism, Shaw is DEAD, Vampire!Charles, X-Men: First Class (2011)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-01-20 17:56:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21285800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertSthMeaningful/pseuds/InsertSthMeaningful
Summary: Thanks to his secret allies in Hellfire Club, Erik finally got the revenge he’s craved since Shaw first set eyes upon him. Now all left to do is wrapping up the mess left behind by his attack and by the association itself, freeing the Mutant Doctor’s victims and gathering the involved mutants willing to work with him.But just as Erik decides to indulge himself for once by sending the others away and leaving only him, Shaw’s battered body and not another single living soul in the room, someone, or rather, something comes stumbling through the doorframe to join him.Or to feed on him. All depends on your point of view, really.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 28
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finished this before flufftober took up all my time, posting it now! Enjoy :)  
Many thanks to the wonderful Nalou and BelgianReader2 for betaing!  


It was pure luck that the vampire only attacked when Erik had already given Shaw what he deserved. 

Well, if you liked to call ‘casually strolling up to the door and leaning in its frame’ an attack. 

Erik had asked his allies, Azazel and Emma, to pick up the other members and victims of Shaw’s former Hellfire Club (soon to be renamed the _ Brotherhood_, even though it sounded a bit sexist) that were willing to cooperate. They would only come back to get him in ten, fifteen minutes, because he just needed some quality time with the corpse of his torturer, to say goodbye and such. Maybe spit on his cherished leather boots a bit. 

Not so long ago, Erik had had to polish those boots until the skin on his hands broke up and Shaw had been able to see his wretched face glint in their blank surface. 

Erik grinned, towering over Shaw’s crumpled body, satisfied despite knowing that he probably looked very much like a maniac shark. But really, he just wasn’t in the mood to bring himself to care right then. Because he didn’t need to clean these boots anymore, not ever again. 

And now there was this creature, this _thing_, eyeing him from the doorway. A walking, bloodthirsty corpse. Its well-preserved body (so well-preserved it almost didn’t differ from the living original, save for the unearthly sense of timelessness and the waxen pallor) had most probably once been that of a man, one who might have looked normal, handsome even. But what was striking Erik were its eyes: sky blue, washed-out, but clear and framed by full, healthy-looking lashes. Now those eyes didn’t look dead at all. Though to certain experienced souls, they might have looked… _ hungry_. 

For an indeterminate time, neither Erik nor the vampire moved. 

The latter’s skin, as white as Carrara marble and just as flawless, was stretched tightly over its gaunt face. Further down, the creature that once had been a man wore a pale blue dress shirt, combined with a brown, worn-out, _ utterly horrible _cardigan. Obviously exhausted from thirst, the Vampire With Poor Fashion Sense But A Pretty Face braced itself heavily on the doorframe. 

Still, Erik spread out his powers to get every piece of metal in the vicinity under his absolute control, for his opponent may have looked weak to the untrained eye… but one would be surprised how much inhuman strength and reserves could lurk in a vampire’s body, especially in a _ starving _vampire’s one. 

“Hello.” 

The creature had spoken, softly, its lips curling up into a feeble smile. Erik only gave a plain nod. Best not to provoke any hostile actions by blurting out clumsy advances or some other bullshit. Apparently, ‘deadly beauty’ really was a thing. 

The vampire’s smile widened in a timid grin, his eyes flicking down to study the floor with something that looked like embarrassment to Erik. And had it had the red blood cells for such a bodily function, it probably would have blushed. 

Really, what did it think was so hilarious about this whole stalemate situation? 

“Erm.” Erik tensed when the vampire cleared its throat, but the latter only looked nervous, not as if it wanted to pull out his guts through his mouth. 

Good. 

Then it began to speak. “Could you please refrain from referring to me as a neuter, Erik? It rather hurts my feelings. Also, I’m Charles. Nice to meet you, I guess?” 

Slightly overrun by the soft British accent that he _totally hadn’t expected_, Erik only caught onto the inconsistency after some moments of blinking dumbly. 

“My name. How did you-?” 

“Telepathy.” The vampire, _ Charles_, cautiously lifted a hand to tap his temple. “And before you ask, yes, it’s a mutation. Maybe this reassures you a tad?” When Erik didn’t answer (no, the fact that this _bloodsucker _also was a _ telepath_, and a damn powerful one because he hadn’t even felt a brush against his mind, _ didn’t _reassure Erik), he shrugged, then looked over at what was left of Shaw. “Oh dear.” He glanced back at Erik. “Well, for the sake of friendly small talk, tell me, my friend: Why would you kill Shaw?” 

Herr im Himmel, was he fucking serious? He didn’t seem like he was sad about Shaw having been reduced to dead meat, but still, you don’t just ask people why they kill other people. 

Also, why was Erik just casually having a chat with a vampire, like he would with a neighbor? Verdammt, the fight with Shaw had knocked him off-balance more than he’d thought. 

“You’ve been in my head. You already know my reasons,” Erik snapped. The metal pipes in the surrounding walls began to creak. 

“I do.” Fairly unimpressed, Charles’ eyes did not waver from Erik’s face. Deep earnestness had taken over his expression. “But I’d like to hear them from you personally.” 

As old-fashioned as this vampire guy probably was, puppy eyes must already have existed when he had been born. Erik sighed. “Alright. Shaw killed my mother. My father, too, though I can’t be sure.” He forced an indifferent shrug. “In other words, I’ve never found his body. Oh, and let’s not forget that good old Doktor Schmidt took in mutants against their will, tortured them and experimented on them. I guess _you _of all people should know what I’m talking about… _ professor_, it is?” He raised an eyebrow at a nameplate attached to Charles’ cardigan. Its worn, even a bit rusty metal had only just now drawn his attention. Strange. If this Professor Charles Xavier, obviously a renowned geneticist and psychologist, had been working for Shaw, then why hadn’t he kept his decoration in better shape? 

“Now, I can’t quite believe my ears. And here I was thinking that the cat got your tongue,” the vampire joked brittlely, but his smile died down at the sight of Erik’s murderous glare. “Huh. Not funny?” He had the nervous habit of pulling his sleeves down over his hands, Erik noted. “And, uh, for the thing with the title… Again, I know what you’re talking, well, thinking about, just not in the way you most likely expect me to. I was on the wrong side of the cage’s door.” His casual shrug appeared unaffected, but Erik knew better. “After all, it was Shaw who starved me.” 

Ach verdammt. 

Erik had known the vampire looked worn out. He’d thought Charles just hadn’t found the opportunity for a good meal or had gone on a fast for the sake of his fellow mutants. But to intentionally deprive such a creature of sustenance… was not only cruel beyond belief, but also infinitely dumb. 

Vampires were meant for immortality, every child knew that much. If you starved them, you didn’t kill them, at least not for a few thousand years. You just really, _ really _pissed them off. 

And there Erik was, in a room with a vampire who might have seemed weak and quite placid actually, but who still was, well, a vampire. An all-inclusive package of inhuman strength and animalistic instincts wrapped up in the body of an adorably nervous and slightly geeky man. Ah yes, and don’t forget the presumed omega-level telepathy. 

Undeterred by Erik’s silence, Charles carried on talking. “As for my family… they’re most likely dead, too.” Another not-as-indifferent-as-it-probably-was-intended-to-be shrug. “It’s been some decades after all.” His gaze detached itself from Erik’s face and slowly travelled downwards. “Though I have to admit that I only miss my sister…” It came to a rest on Erik’s forearm… where a cut from the battle with Shaw and Company was _still oozing blood_. 

The vampire licked his lips unconsciously. 

At that moment exactly, Erik probably should have pissed his pants and bailed. Suddenly though, he felt very, _ very _tired. So tired and so unwilling to move and so fed up from running all the time, from chasing after all the people who had wronged him. 

Because the one who had taken the most from him, who had held his focus for years and to whom he had dedicated all the anger he could summon, now lay dead on the floor. For the past decade or so, Shaw had been the filler for a gap Erik hadn’t even known existed in his life. 

Slowly, a question began to crystallize in the mess that was his mind. Erik did have a future, sure, but what for? Was he to just walk away from Shaw’s corpse? Was he to help and protect the mutants he’d already saved once? Or was he to be sucked dry (and not in the way he would’ve liked) by a random vampire? 

He focused his gaze on Charles again. “What will be now?” he asked, trying and failing to veil the desperation in his words, “What… should I do?” 

But he wasn’t heard. 

The professor’s pupils had dilated, sucking up the sky blue of his irises like two black holes. With a sharp, wet sound, fangs about the length of a fingernail slid out from beneath his slightly parted lips, and his muscles tensed visibly beneath his unmatching clothes. There before Erik didn’t stand a man. Not anymore. 

All there was left was a highly functional predator, staring right back at him. 

Well, _ obviously _ , the two first options for Erik’s future had been ruled out by the third. And he recognized he couldn’t care less. He didn’t feel terror, he didn’t feel fear of what was to happen to him, all he felt was _compassion _for Charles, a man who had been unwillingly turned into a creature driven by its instincts, damned to eternal life. 

A memory came to his mind, back from the days in which his mother used, or better, _ had tried_, to teach him the rites of the Jewish religion. 

He wasn’t standing in front of an open grave, nor did he have the time to properly follow every rule of the Jewish Mourning or was able to pinpoint the Yahrzeit of Charles’ supposed death. He couldn’t even remember when he’d last laid eyes upon a tallit, or if he even needed one for his plans. But he still remembered most of the lines of El Malei Rachamim, a prayer dedicated to the soul of the dead. 

He came as far as folding his hands over his sternum before the vampire pushed itself off the doorframe and began stalking towards him, its movements slow and determined and so _confident_. Preying on Erik. Every trace of humanity had gone from its traits, replaced by a stone-dead, motionless mask of hunger. 

Erik could have imagined more pleasant ways to die, but who was he to complain? It wasn’t like anybody still needed him in this life. So, he bowed his head and began to pray. 

Out of the corners of his eyes, he got a last glimpse of blindingly white fangs framed by ivory lips before closing them. He guessed it was as good a last sight as any. 

* 

_ God, full of mercy, Who dwells above, give rest on the wings of the Divine Presence, amongst the holy, pure and glorious who shine like the sky- _

* 

The barely audible tapping of bare feet on the floor made the blood rush in Erik’s ears. Now that he thought about it, maybe there still was time to get out of this screwed-up situation, a chance to lard the vampire with the pipes in the ceiling so Erik could make it until Azazel and Frost came back- 

A rough feeling of {DON’T EVEN TRY} was shoved right at his consciousness. _ Right, _ probably omega-level telepathy, Erik had totally forgotten. 

Looking death in the eye proved to be harder than anticipated. Erik murmured on. 

* 

_ -to the soul of Charles, for whom charity was offered in the memory of his soul. _

* 

Erik’s left knee was shaking. Why was his left knee shaking? Gottverdammt, he just wanted to bolt. 

The steps approaching him got erratic, hesitant even. 

* 

_ Therefore, the Merciful One will protect his soul forever, and will merge his soul with eternal life. _

* 

{WHAT ARE YOU DOING?} 

Erik glanced up at the vampire, at the thing that once had introduced itself as Charles. 

Was there recognition written in its face? Maybe Erik was just high on adrenaline. He lowered his eyes. 

* 

_ The everlasting is his heritage, and he shall rest peacefully at his lying place, and let us say: _

*

Compassion. 

{_ How are you doing this? _} 

Erik felt the little blood left in the vampire just an inch from his body. 

* 

_ Amen. _

* 

A cold body, all inhuman strength and hungry ivory skin, pressed up against Erik’s. No fangs touched his neck. Only wet sobs, making him shudder. 

“Shite.” Charles sniffled, chocking on hiccups. “I’ve been s-so alone for so lo-long.” 

“Not anymore.” Erik lifted a shaking hand, slowly to not scare the vampire wrapped around him, and buried it in the mop of hazel hair pressed to his chin. “You’re not alone. Not anymore, Charles.” 

_ Breathe. Where are your feet right at this moment? _

Erik jerked his head back. “What the- “ 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!” Immediately, Charles shrank back himself, unwinding his arms from around Erik’s torso and putting a good two feet of distance between them. “Really, I’m so sorry. Oh my, that’s so embarrassing,” he mumbled, then looked up to give Erik a very lopsided, _ very _guilty smile. “First, I nearly rip out your throat and then I accidentally project to you with- It’s my mutation, sorry, sometimes it’s… _ so _ hard to control.” He wiped his eyes with his sleeves. 

Ah. Yes. It’s not every day that you nearly get shredded by a telepathic vampire. 

Well, he’d never been one to forgive easily. In fact, he was a master at holding persistent grudges against certain individuals (especially if they had slaughtered his family). But he guessed there was a first time for everything. 

“I’ve lived worse.” He gave the professor standing awkwardly before him a weak smile, knowing these words were tragically true. 

“You won’t try to, well, _ stab _me or something, then? You know, run a stake through my heart or something of the sort.” And there was Charles’ smile again, shining through the drying tear tracks on his cheeks and making warmth bloom in Erik’s chest. “It’s not like I couldn’t stop it, but just… Peace?” The way he folded his arms over his chest and tugged at his sleeves was just pure adorable. 

“Peace was never an option. It was always a natural consequence for the two of us, considering how well we started off.” Erik mirrored Charles’ stance and grinned. “With you trying to rip out my throat and all.” 

An exaggerated eye-roll. “Oh, you’ll never let me hear the end of my faux pas, will you?” And Gott im Himmel, he even _giggled_, a sound so starkly contradicting his appearance, when Erik simply shook his head. “I think now that we’ve already shared life stories and, uh, _ close body contact_, sorry about that by the way- “ 

“Don’t be sorry,” Erik interrupted, then gestured for the man to continue. 

“So, as I said, I think we might as well share our last names now: I’m Charles Xavier, professor of genetics and psychology.” The ‘as well as compulsory vampire’ was left unspoken. Charles avoided Erik’s eyes anyway. 

_ Xavier_. He knew that name. “Erik Lehnsherr. Mutant activist and part-time avenger of my family.” Maybe Logan had talked about someone named Xavier once, he came around a lot. Also, he was one of the older mutants in Erik’s acquaintances. “Some of my friends should arrive shortly to pick me up.” Or it could have been Mystique. No one knew the svelte but tough woman’s age and no one knew where she came from. Yes, she had the tendency to live up to her name. “Do you have any place to go?” 

Charles shoved his hands down his trousers’ pockets and shrugged, still not quite meeting Erik’s eyes. “No, not exactly. I could go see if my family’s house has been… If I’ve been declared dead yet. How many years is the time limit before the legal presumption of death again?” He nodded when Erik shook his head. “Well, looks like I’ve got… _ nowhere to go _.” His voice broke on the last syllables. 

Erik unfolded his arms and held them open widely, knowing he was making himself completely vulnerable _again _to the vampire that _had just tried to drink of him_. But as much as he wanted to fight it… he trusted Charles, the human, the mutant, to stay in control. 

And when he had prayed in what he had thought to be his last moments alive… when this ivory-skinned, undead man had reached into his mind, his most intimate interior… Erik had felt Charles’ yearning. 

{_ securesafewarmhomeplease _} 

Charles had been yearning for a fixpoint. Something, someone he could return to in the endless stream of time, an anchor to hold him tight, to tell him he wasn’t slipping into insanity. Raven, presumably his sister, had been this place, a very long time ago. But she was long gone, and now Charles was barely staying afloat. 

All Erik had to do was reach out and never let go again. 

At first, the telepath gave him a wide-eyed, incredulous look (out of those blue _blue _watering eyes, verdammt). Then, without hesitating, he crossed the few feet between them, fitting his head perfectly under Erik’s chin so the latter could enclose him in his arms. “No one’s ever shown me compassion, not as you did, you trustful idiot,” was the last thing Erik heard Charles sniffle. 

They remained silent and snuggled up tightly against each other until Azazel and Emma came back. 

Yes, Shaw’s death had left quite the gap in Erik’s life. But somehow, he knew he would be able to fill it with the man he held in his arms, a man who, he felt, he had known for a long time and only just found again. 

Maybe Erik was finally coming home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope I didn't mess up the Jewish prayer :) if so, tell me, or comment if something offends or disturbs you otherwise!  
For those who wonder, Raven and Charles are reunited (with hugs and tears and all 💙) when Erik brings his new vampire ally into the brotherhood. Raven is indeed the same age as Charles (so several decades old) but still looks youthful because of her mutation.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven's and Charles' reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a commenter asked nicely for a more detailed description of the siblings' reunion. This is what you get when you comment - a new chapter half a year after the original one-shot's been posted.

The red sulphur fumes of Azazael's teleporting them back to the Brotherhood's headquarters cleared to give free view onto the room hosting their command center, and at Erik's side, Charles coughed.

"Dear me," the vampire said and waved his hand in front of his face to chase away the last wisps of the red smoke, "that is _some _effective method of transportation." He turned to eye Azazel speculatively. "You wouldn't be free some time for a little trip to Westchester County, would you?"

The Russian-born mutant gave a dramatic sigh. "Am not bus for everyone. Also have feelings."

"Tsk." Emma to Erik's left smirked. "Sugar, don't listen to him. He always says that to everyone, but in the end, he'll cave anyway. He'll get you to wherever you want to go, don't worry."

Swishing his tail agitatedly, Azazel shot Erik's diamond telepath an offended glare. "Not true," he growled – then, he shot Charles another glance. "But for pretty ivory face here…"

Apparently, the time for Erik to intervene had come.

"Azazel," he said, "why don't you go look for Mystique? As my second-in-command, she should be here and ready to assist me. And as for you, Emma-" He gave his head telepath who had been eyeing Charles warily ever since she had learnt he was a vampire a subtle nod- "you should go help Janos with getting the refugees settled in. They've seen enough at Shaw's, too, so you might give them a telepathic once-over before we ask who wants to fight with us and who wants to start a new life with our help and who is already planning on betraying us."

"Of course." After one last reprimanding glance at Charles, Emma turned on her heels and sashayed out of the room. Azazel went for the short-cut and simply teleported.

Charles turned to Erik and smiled with just a hint of incertitude. "Your lovely telepath friend just told me she would fracture my mind into a billion pieces if I even so much as looked at you like you're something to drink. Are you really sure my presence here will disturb no one?"

Huffing, Erik clapped a hand on the vampire's scrawny shoulder, squeezing it maybe a tad bit too tightly for it to be a simple gesture of friendliness. "I don't want to belittle the awful situation in which your condition has placed you, but Charles... we are all mutants here. For all of our lives, we have been treated like scum for our being different, and even among ourselves, we are prone to be wary of each other. Not everyone uses their mutant power for good. So, you see, I think we'll be just fine handling the added weirdness of your vampirism, since we're used to it."

"Oh. That's fine, then." Charles looked surprised – like he hadn't thought he would be accepted so easily. It made Erik want to track down whoever had pushed his new friend into thinking less of himself, into thinking he was a bother, a burden. Because he was not.

"Thank you, my friend," Charles told him, obviously having followed Erik's train of thoughts via his telepathy. Then, he reached up and took Erik's hand from his shoulder, cradling it in his own. "Though we really should be doing something about my bloodlust. Your compassion helps me to keep it at bay, but I do have to admit that your teleporter smells like his blood might be a tasty treat. Laced with vodka, too, I assume. And even that lovely Emma Frost has something about her scent that makes me want to…"

Erik shivered, fingers curling in Charles' grasp. So much power. So much power in the man in front of him, a creature who could tear out his throat, who could not be stopped, not even by his mastery of magnetism. And yet, he felt no fear, felt no terror. Only bone-gripping awe, and the need to worship the ground on which Charles walked.

Charles looked up from where he had been staring off into space and smiled sweetly. "I'm sorry, darling. Of course, I'll be able to wait." He raised Erik's hand to his face, gingerly placed a kiss on its knuckles. "And you're the most special treat. You, I will devour in other ways than those of a blood-thirsty vampire. I do hope your linens are soft, and that we might find ourselves alone soon–” The door swinging open saved Erik from falling to his knees right then and there and pledging his soul, his life and his love entirely to one Charles Francis Xavier.

Mystique, in all her blue-and-crimson glory, stood in the doorway, hands on her hips.

"Lehnsherr!" she called, "What is it that has you whining for me again like for your mommy–"

And then she stopped dead in her tracks, a sickly pallor invading the azure of her cheeks.

At Erik's side, Charles took in a stuttering breath, and Erik's hand slipped from his suddenly slackening grasp like an afterthought.

"Charles!" cried out Mystique at the same time as Charles whispered, "Raven."

Erik just stood there, eyes flicking back and forth between his second-in-command and the vampire he had so inconveniently fallen in love with. He had _no idea _what was going on.

Raven was the first to move, lunging forward so hurriedly it looked more like falling than controlled walking. And before Charles could even so much as say another word, she was upon him, slinging her arms around him and then lifting him up like he weighed nothing, crushing him against her chest, making low crooning sounds in the back of her throat.

"Charles," she breathed, "Oh Charles, I thought you were dead!"

"And I," Charles said, tears welling up in his eyes as he hugged her right back, "I thought I was to never see you again. I never– You–"

"Shhh. Oh, oh, the blood-sucking bastard who did this to you will pay." Mystique had resolved to put the slightly smaller man back on his feet, carding a hand through his hair instead. "But it's alright. You're alright, and I'm here, and I'll never leave you again. You're not alone anymore."

"No," muttered Charles, hiding his face at Mystique's shoulder, and then Erik watched him dissolve into tears for the second time that day.

He was so confused.

And it must have been showing on his face, because when Mystique lifted her eyes from where she had been staring incredulously down at their newest vampire addition, she gave him a lopsided, teary-eyed smile.

"S-sorry," she hiccuped, her hands rubbing over Charles' back in soothing circular motions, "it's just– We haven't seen each other since he disappeared, didn't even know about each other being alive–"

"You know each other?" Erik asked belatedly. "How?"

"Raven, she- she's m-my sister," came Charles' muffled voice, and Mystique nodded, said, "He's my brother. My baby brother."

And all the pieces fell into place. The sister Charles had mentioned in passing, probably dead after decades of not knowing about her whereabouts. The name – _Raven _– Erik had heard whispered when Charles' stream of consciousness had brushed his, the impression of blue scales and sulphur eyes and blazing hair which had accompanied it.

There were midnight-blue tear tracks on Mystique's – Raven's – face when Erik walked over to the siblings holding onto each other for dear life. She looked up as he placed a hand over hers where it was still grasping Charles' shaking shoulder tightly.

He smiled. Squeezed her fingers.

She mouthed a mute _Thank you, thank you so much _at him before going back to burying her face in her brother's locks, not caring that his skin was searingly cold against hers, or that he was paler than a linen sheet and that the fangs peeking forth from behind his lips were sharper than needles. Erik stayed, his hand protectively splayed over hers, over her brother's – his Charles' – back.

And for once in his life, he was absolutely certain he had made the right decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! If you did, please consider leaving kudos and a comment. It doesn't have to be anything elaborate, just a "+kudos" or a "loved it!" would make my day!!! It means so much to an author to see people take the time to actually type out words instead of simply hitting one (1) button, and it's a very easy way to make us writers - who dedicate so much of our free time to create content for you - happy!


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